


Bite me

by Sorran



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha Rick, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, M/M, Mating Bond, Nipple Play, Omega Daryl, Relationship Negotiation, Rickyl Writers' Group, heat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorran/pseuds/Sorran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl was a grumpy fucker at the best of times, but when he went into heat, he turned into the most irritating shit on God's green earth. At least as far as Rick was concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bite me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1lostone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift for [1lostone](http://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone). Sorry I have to post a little early Lost, I'll be travelling on your actual birthday, so here goes! Hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> Have a fantastic birthday when it comes, and let your nearest and dearest spoil you rotten. All the best!

Daryl was a grumpy fucker at the best of times, but when he went into heat, he got downright irritating. Although he clearly hated being cooped up and around people all the time, he would never stray far from base during his heats, snarling at anyone who so much as looked at him instead. Everybody else just gave him a slightly wider berth than usual, but for some reason Rick could never seem to ignore his testiness. Hell, even the way Daryl licked his fingers after meals grated on Rick during those days, and Rick had seen Daryl lick his fingers a thousand times. 

So when he happened to see Daryl lick his fingers _and_ snap at one of the Woodbury kids for talking to him, it was all Rick could do not to strangle the moody omega.

“A word, Daryl?” he ground out once the kid was out of earshot, jerking his head towards the vegetable garden.

For a moment Daryl just glared at him, but then he shoved his hands into his pockets and followed him with a huff that sounded too much like Carl’s sullen ‘Whatevers’ not to annoy Rick. Still, Rick bit his tongue, and they made their way down to the farm patch in tense silence, Rick’s steps sharp and fast, Daryl almost literally dragging his heels.

“Look Daryl, I get it”, Rick sighed when they reached Violet’s enclosure. “It’s harder on you because you aren’t mated and have never had a pup like Carol, but you gotta tone it down, man.”

Daryl froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”, he said stonily.

“Daryl, don’t play dumb with me.” Rick ran a weary hand through his hair. “I know you’re in heat.”

Daryl stared at him. “How…” He cleared his throat. “How do you know?” he rasped, fingers fiddling with a loose end on the wire fencing.

Rick snorted. “How could I not know?” he countered, shaking his head. “Come on, man, gimme some credit. You go into heat at the same time every month. You practically refuse to go outside the gates when you’re normally only here to eat and sleep. You scent everything in sight”, Rick nodded at where Daryl was listlessly running his hands up and down the fence, “which, incidentally, I think is why you always do the gun maintenance when you’re in heat. But even if it weren’t for all that and the fact you turn into the most irritating shit on God’s green earth, I could smell it a mile off. You’re in heat.”

Daryl’s hands stilled on the fence, and he looked at Rick through his bangs. “Rick, nobody else can smell it”, he said quietly. “Shit, even I barely can. I been on suppressants for years.”

Now it was Rick’s turn to stare. “Suppressants?” he repeated weakly.

“Yeah”, Daryl nodded. “Took the last one this morning”, he added and fished a small strip of tablets out of his jean pocket to show Rick.

“But… How…” Rick’s voice trailed off. Even as an alpha well-attuned to the scent of omega pheromones he should not be able to smell Daryl’s heats. Not with Daryl being on suppressants. Unless...

They looked at each other, blue on blue, and for a few endless seconds the world spun around them so fast it was making Rick dizzy. 

“You’re my mate”, he eventually managed to croak.

“Bite me!” was Daryl’s instantaneous reaction, but there was no heat behind the words.

Rick nodded. “I will, if you want me to.”

“What?” Daryl narrowed his eyes.

“Bite you.” Suddenly nervous, Rick wiped his hands on his trousers. “Daryl, if you want me to, I’ll bite you.”

“Fuck off, Rick”, Daryl scoffed. “You don’t gotta bite me just cos I’m in heat, and I ain’t gonna bend over just cos you bite me. I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

But Rick shook his head. “No man, it ain’t that. You’re my right-hand man. I want to bite you because I want you to be my right-hand _man_.” 

He was babbling, he knew it, but Daryl seemed to understand him regardless.

“You want to bite me?” he rasped.

Rick nodded jerkily. “Yeah.”

For a few moments, Daryl just looked at him through narrowed eyes. Then he nodded once, and bared his throat, swallowing dryly. “Alright.”

Doing a little nervous swallowing of his own, Rick stepped closer. He put a hand on Daryl’s nape and gently pulled the other man in to nuzzle his neck when Daryl stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“I’m warning you, Grimes”, he drawled in Rick’s ear. “If you’re a dick about this, I’ll gut you like a squirrel.”

“Understood”, Rick smiled. Then he leaned back in for one soft kiss to the side of Daryl’s neck before biting down hard.


	2. Fuck off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mated life isn't going quite the way Rick expected it to.

As it turned out, being mated made Daryl only marginally less grumpy, but it made Rick a whole lot more sensitive to Daryl’s moods.

What being mated did not do was come with a manual when he really could have used one. 

At first Rick didn’t even think about it. He’d been married before; he thought he knew about long term, committed relationships. But Daryl wasn’t Lori, and Rick quickly realised that being mated to him wasn’t going to be anything like being married. 

For a start, Daryl refused to move into his cell and share a bed. In fact he scoffed: “The fuck d’ you think I am, Grimes? Your wife? Fuck off.” 

So mated relations weren’t exactly as Rick had envisaged. It wasn’t that there weren’t any, but sneaky kisses in the hallway and rushed hand jobs between duties weren’t quite what he’d had in mind.

Rick would’ve been hurt if not for the fact he now _knew_ that Daryl was being wary because he felt uneasy. That was as far as the mating bond got Rick though, and the point at which a manual would have come in handy. He didn’t have the faintest clue how to go about asking Daryl what was wrong. His common sense only told him not to ask outright, because this was _Daryl_. So being able to feel his mate’s uneasiness did nothing but put Rick on edge, too, and a fat lot of help that was.

In the end it wasn’t until Daryl’s next heat that Rick found out what his mate was struggling with.

The hunter started getting antsy a couple of days before, and that was something else Rick had never noticed before. Two mornings in a row Daryl announced that he planned to be out hunting all day, and both days he was back by lunch time, prickly as a porcupine, grumbling about his snares needing to be fixed and reset. On the third morning he made it as far as the gate before turning around with an angry huff and stomping back up to the cell block to do gun maintenance.

Rick didn’t even need to watch to know that Daryl was growing more and more irritated with each person who stopped at his table to talk to him. What surprised him though was the intensity of Daryl’s feelings; his mate did _not_ want to be here, and was quickly approaching melting point.

Rick set his hoe aside with a frown, dusted off his hands and made his way over to the courtyard where Daryl had set up shop. Daryl didn’t look up as he approached, but his shoulders tensed and his fingers held the cylinder he was cleaning in a death grip. When Rick stopped opposite him, Daryl snapped “‘M busy”, then shot him a venomous glare only for his features to relax on recognising Rick.

“Sorry”, he muttered.

Rick slid onto the bench on the other side of the table and reached for a barrel and a cleaning rod and bore brush. “Why are you here?” he asked as he attached the brush to the rod. “Thought you wanted to go hunting.”

“Guns need cleanin’”, Daryl grunted.

Rick shrugged. “Sure, but any number of people could do that. Don’t need to be you.”

“I like it.”

“Bullshit”, snorted Rick. “You don’t give a shit about cleaning the guns. You just like handling them because it gives you a chance to scent them.”

“Didn’t realise I’d asked you to psychoanalyse me”, Daryl muttered and gave him a narrow-eyed look from underneath his bangs.

Rick shrugged again. “I just want to know what you’re doing here when you clearly don’t want to be here.” He nudged Daryl’s ankle with his foot. “Why don’t you leave the rest of the guns to me and go check your snares?”

“I can’t”, Daryl said curtly, before focusing back on the cylinder in his hands.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Rick asked, tilting his head. “There’s at least four or five hours of daylight left, if you leave now you’ll be back by dinner time.”

Daryl dropped the cylinder and his cleaning rag with an exasperated sigh. “I can’t leave”, he ground out and buried his head in his hands.

Rick could almost feel his eyebrows disappear in his hairline. “You can’t…”, he started, then stopped. “What??”

“I can’t leave”, Daryl repeated, mumbling into his palms.

Rick stared at him. “That makes no sense”, he managed eventually. “Daryl, you go out almost every day.”

“I know!” Daryl huffed into his hands. He scrubbed his face, then slapped his forearms onto the table to return Rick’s stare wildly. “I fucking know that, Rick. But I can’t make myself leave.” He grimaced. “It’s that goddamned nesting instinct.”

Rick didn’t think he’d ever seen Daryl look so frustrated before.


	3. What now, Grimes?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress of sorts.

Rick scratched his beard. “So your nesting instinct tells you to what? Stay home and nest?” he cautiously felt his way forward.

Daryl nodded.

“Doesn’t it always do that?”

Daryl shrugged. “I can ignore it most of the time.” He reached for the cylinder he’d dropped and started fiddling with it. “Gets worse when I’m in heat though.”

“Okay.” Rick nodded, eyes never leaving Daryl’s face. “So why don’t you just nest?”

“Are you crazy?” Daryl hissed. Looking around to ensure nobody was close enough to overhear them, he continued: “You wanna bring a pup into this fucked up mess?!”

Rick shook his head. “Wasn’t talking about pups. We have Judith.” His heart did a little flip when the corners of Daryl’s mouth quirked up in a small smile at that. He leaned forward. “I don't intend to bring another pup into the world unless we’re in a position to give them a real life, and if that’s never, so be it.”

Daryl grunted. “So what are you talkin’ about?”

“Your nesting instinct isn’t just about pups, is it?” Rick checked. “It’s about making a nest, a home, right?”

“Yeah”, Daryl nodded.

Rick leaned back. “Okay, so do that.”

“I ain’t buildin’ no goddamn nest!” Daryl immediately protested, making Rick huff impatiently.

“That’s not what I meant”, he explained. “Hear me out. This, here, the prison”, he gestured, indicating the courtyard and the cell block, “is our home, yeah?” At Daryl’s nod, he continued: “So. Plenty of stuff and thangs need doin’ round here. There’s always walkers to cull or fences to check and fix, and the damned water intake seems needin’ cleared just about every other day. Carol already nearly got herself killed trying to sort it on her own. You could do some of that when you’re in heat. It’d help us, it’d keep you busy so people’d probably leave you alone, and hopefully it’d satisfy your nesting instinct, too.” He leaned forward again. “Think about it.”

Daryl nodded slowly, eyes focused on the cylinder in his hands. “Yeah, alright.”

“Okay, good”, Rick smiled and rose. “I gotta get back to my crops.” He swung first one, then the other leg over the bench. “See you at dinner?”

Daryl grunted in the affirmative, and Rick dove in for a quick kiss before turning away to head back to the farm patch when something occurred to him. He stopped and turned back. 

“Daryl?”

“What now, Grimes?” Daryl huffed, squinting up at him through his bangs.

“If you want to use my cell to clean the rest of the guns it’s yours. Ain’t nobody gonna bother you once you draw the curtain.”

 

By the time Rick made it back to his cell that night it was dark, he’d missed dinner and he couldn’t decide whether to be more pissed off that somebody had been feeding and thus attracting the walkers, putting them all at risk, or that Daryl hadn’t come looking for him when he hadn’t shown for dinner. If nothing else they could’ve used Daryl’s help shoring up the fences and keeping the walkers at bay.

The sight that greeted him when he pushed the privacy curtain aside stopped both him and that particular train of thought in their tracks. His cell looked like an armory, with virtually all of their guns stacked neatly against the wall or laid out on the top bunk, and in the middle of it all was Daryl, slumped over on Rick’s bed, fully dressed, back to the wall, booted feet hanging over the side and face buried in Rick’s pillow. It looked like he’d just fallen asleep where he’d sat.

Rick sighed. Of all the nights Daryl could’ve picked to start sleeping in his bed, it had to be this one. As much as he loved having Daryl here, right now he wanted nothing more than to stretch his sore limbs and pass out for a few hours.

Ignoring the butterflies that made themselves at home in the pit of his stomach regardless of how tired he felt, Rick stepped into the cell, dropping the curtain behind him. He gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the lower light level, then carefully picked his way across to the bunk, where he sunk down with a small groan of relief. 

Daryl didn’t so much as twitch.

For a few moments, Rick simply sat on the edge of his bed, enjoying the feeling of being off his feet, before slowly and deliberately bending down to take off his boots. His socks followed, then his grimy t-shirt, but when he got to his jeans Rick decided he just couldn’t be bothered to stand up again to peel them off, so he settled for opening the button to make himself more comfortable. 

He hesitated, then leaned over to unlace Daryl’s boots and pull them off his feet. When Daryl still didn’t move, Rick sighed and shook his mate’s shoulder.

“Daryl!”

He got an unintelligible grumble in reply, and Daryl burrowed deeper into his pillow. 

Rick frowned. Nudging Daryl’s leg none too gently he repeated: “Come on Daryl, move your ass or get out!” 

Daryl moved with a low growl of protest, and Rick was finally able to stretch out alongside him. He was asleep in seconds.


	4. Fuck me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mated relations take a step forward.

Rick awoke some time in the small hours. For a moment he just lay there, blinking in the darkness, wondering faintly what had woken him up. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He could hear the usual sounds of people sleeping nearby, snores and occasional coughs, and then the sheets rustled as his mate shifted next to him in his sleep. 

Heart suddenly hammering in his chest, Rick slowly turned onto his side. Daryl was more than close enough to touch, but Rick wanted to savour just being able to watch him sleep for a bit, even though all that was visible were Daryl’s mop of hair and a cheekbone. Rick’s eyes followed the sharp line of that cheekbone down to where the sparse stubble of Daryl’s beard peeked out above the pillow before leisurely traveling back up again, his inner alpha practically purring at the pleasure of having his mate in his bed. 

When he couldn’t resist any longer, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind Daryl’s ear, and as dead to the world as Daryl had been earlier, the featherlight touch woke him up.

“Rick?” he mumbled, voice low and sleep-rough.

“Sorry”, Rick apologised. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Daryl didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he murmured: “Wasn’t expectin’ to wake up next to you.”

“There somebody else you were expecting to wake up next to?” Rick grinned.

“Wasn’t expectin’ to wake up next to anyone”, Daryl grumbled, then rolled onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows to squint into the dark cell. “Wasn’t expectin’ to wake up in your bed, to be honest”, he added.

Rick shrugged. “You were passed out face first in my pillow when I came in, and you didn’t seem to want to leave.” He huffed. “Didn’t want to make any space either, I thought I was going to have to bunk with Carl.”

Daryl snorted and let himself fall back onto the pillow. “Fuck me”, he muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face.

Rick coughed, mouth suddenly gone dry. “I will if you want me to”, he rasped.

Daryl lowered his hands and eyed him warily. “Shit man, I’m gonna have to watch what I say around you, ain’t I?”

“Is that a no?” Rick asked softly.

“I don't know”, Daryl replied just as quietly, staring at the underside of the top bunk.

Rick frowned, then remembered that Daryl wouldn't be able to see his expression in the darkness even if he were to look in his direction. “What does that mean, you don't know?” he queried.

“Means I don't know whether it's me who wants you to fuck me right now, or my damned hormones”, Daryl huffed, then abruptly turned onto his side to face Rick. “And I ain't gonna let that shit control what I do. So yeah, I guess it's a no.” He sounded every bit as frustrated as he’d looked earlier that day.

“Okay”, Rick said, doing his best to hide his disappointment. “I get it.” And he did. While Daryl wasn’t a leader, he wasn't a follower either; he was as proudly independent as Rick was fiercely protective. Daryl was an omega in the oldest, truest sense of the word: a law unto himself, counterpart and complement to the alpha. Submission _was_ a part of his nature, but it would be given, or denied, as needed - and _always_ on Daryl’s terms. Given Daryl’s sheer stubbornness, Rick thought with a pang of exasperation, it made sense that he would refuse to give in to the demands of his biology. 

That last thought translated into a fondly huffed “Stubborn ass”, as Rick leaned in to kiss Daryl soundly.

At first Daryl startled, but then he relaxed into the kiss. “Pot, kettle, black”, he smirked against Rick’s lips when they broke apart.

“Takes one to know one, huh?” Rick smiled back.

Daryl’s only reply was a kiss that lead to another, and another one after that, and then there was nothing but lips, tongues and teeth until they broke apart again, panting, Rick’s hands buried in Daryl’s hair, Daryl’s hands roaming over Rick’s naked torso, their legs entangled. 

Daryl’s touches left trails of goosebumps on Rick’s skin, making the alpha shiver and want more. 

“You're overdressed”, he whispered hoarsely. 

Daryl snorted. “That's a first”, he quipped. He hesitated, but then reached for the hem of his shirt, eyes never leaving Rick’s. 

Rick stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “Let me? Please?” he asked.

Nodding jerkily, Daryl licked his lips and slowly removed his hand from the hem of his shirt, as cautious as if Rick had just told him to step away from the gun.

Rick in turn slipped a hand under the shirt, fingers trailing up Daryl’s side, over his ribs and the one scar that curled from his back almost all the way to the front, and then coming to rest under Daryl’s arm before gently tickling him. 

Daryl squawked in surprise and squirmed away. “The hell, man”, he complained, shaking himself to lose the unexpected sensation. 

“You're thinking too much”, Rick grinned. Then his expression sobered, and he caught Daryl’s eyes again. “Ain't gonna do anything you don't want me to do. Okay?”

“I’d like to see you try”, Daryl snorted, but let himself be pulled closer anyway.

“Fair point”, Rick conceded between kisses along Daryl’s jawline and down Daryl’s neck that drew an involuntary moan from Daryl. “So relax, hm?”

Daryl made a noncommittal noise and watched as Rick opened the buttons of his shirt one by one, pressing a kiss to each patch of newly-revealed skin as he went. When he got to the last button and Daryl was still observing intently, Rick sat up and raised his hands.

“Okay, look”, he said, wiggling his fingers, “no knives. See?” 

He turned his hands to show his empty palms to Daryl, who promptly flipped him off. 

“Fuck you, Grimes”, the omega groused, chuckling under his breath despite himself as he lay back and closed his eyes. When the seconds ticked by and Rick made no move to undress him further, Daryl re-opened one eye and squinted at Rick quizzically. “Rick? You alright man?”

Rick gave a full body shudder and cleared his throat. “Do you…” He had to try again. “Do you want to?” he croaked.

Daryl opened his other eye too. “Do I want to what?” he asked with a frown.

“Fuck me”, Rick rasped.


	5. Fuck you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship negotiations are successfully concluded. (Here be smut.)

Daryl did not even hesitate. “Oh hell, yeah”, he breathed, then surged up to claim Rick’s mouth in a searing kiss. Before Rick knew what was happening, he was lying on his back, Daryl growling, nipping and kissing above him.

“Lose the pants”, Daryl demanded roughly, struggling out of his own shirt and khakis as he did so. By the time Rick had managed to shimmy out of his jeans and was pushing his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, Daryl was already naked and watching him hungrily. He was straddling Rick and bending down to lick his nipples before Rick’s underpants hit the floor.

Rick moaned as Daryl’s tongue laved over his nipple in broad strokes, then gasped when Daryl’s teeth nipped the little nub sharply. Reaching out blindly, Rick put one hand on Daryl’s shoulder while the other found the nape of Daryl’s neck, urging his mate back up for a sloppy kiss. Daryl obliged long enough for Rick to start exploring his mouth with his tongue, then he pulled Rick’s hands off of himself by the wrists, pushed them into the pillow on either side of Rick’s head and ended the kiss with a bite to Rick’s lower lip and a growl. Before Rick could flinch at the sharp pain, Daryl soothed his lip with a quick lick, then moved down to resume his ministrations of Rick’s nipples.

Rick had never thought of his nipples as particularly sensitive before, but the single-minded attention Daryl was paying first one, then the other bud drove him crazy. The alternating long swipes of Daryl’s tongue, teasing kitten licks and sharp little bites made Rick’s nipples pebble and his entire chest tighten as his blood flowed south to pool in his groin and fill out his cock. Just as his spine was starting to tingle and Rick was beginning to think Daryl might just be able to make him come with this alone, Daryl pulled off of his nipple and latched onto a patch of skin just under Rick’s ribcage, sliding down the alpha’s body. Rick absentmindedly noticed a cool sensation where Daryl had straddled him, then groaned at the bruising kiss his mate sucked into his abdomen. 

“Fuck, Daryl!” he hissed, only to be rewarded with an unrepentant smirk, Daryl’s eyes glittering behind his bangs. 

The omega moved to kneel on one side of Rick’s legs and scooted further down the bed, running one hand over Rick’s hip and down between his thighs, nudging them apart. When Rick obediently opened his legs, Daryl shifted to sit on his haunches in the space Rick had made for him, then trailed his hands back up Rick’s thighs with a satisfied hum. He followed his fingers with lips and tongue, making Rick moan every time he hit an especially sensitive spot. 

As Daryl’s hands came to rest on Rick’s hips, he lowered his head and gently blew across Rick’s straining cock. Rick’s length twitched in response, and Daryl did it again and again, until Rick was making constant noises of desperation and Daryl had to hold him down to keep his hips from bucking off the bed. 

“Daryl!”

Rick wasn’t too proud to beg, and Daryl wasn’t so cruel as to deny him. Wrapping one hand around Rick’s shaft, he guided the alpha’s cock to his mouth and sealed his lips around the head. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Rick fling an arm over his own mouth, then his sole focus was on the hot, hard flesh under his tongue and what he could do with it to coax more and more of those muffled, needy moans out of his partner.

Daryl brought his lips down to his hand, taking more of Rick’s length in, before slowly pulling off again to drag his lips and tongue over the head, all the way to the tip, where he swirled his tongue a few times before dipping it into the slit to chase a taste of Rick’s pre-come. Rick groaned behind his arm, and Daryl molded his tongue to the underside of his cock and hollowed his cheeks to suck him back down.

“Oh god, holy shit Daryl, do that again”, Rick panted, and Daryl grinned around his cock. 

Every time Daryl sucked Rick back down he took Rick in a little deeper, and by the time his eyes were starting to water as he hit the limits of his gag reflex, his own cock was leaking pre-come. He’d let the hand that had started out on Rick’s length slip down to the base of the shaft where it loosely encircled the beginnings of Rick’s knot, and now he used his free hand to give himself a few leisurely strokes before cupping Rick’s balls and gently squeezing them.

With a deep groan, Rick spread his legs wider to give Daryl better access, and Daryl wasted no time sliding his fingers over Rick’s perineum and down to his hole. While Daryl’s mouth kept licking and sucking Rick’s cock, his middle finger circled Rick’s entrance, making Rick buck erratically between the two sensations, moaning into the crook of his elbow.

At first Rick only registered a small amount of pressure that quickly got lost among the pleasure of being engulfed by Daryl’s lips, but the pressure kept growing and growing until it turned into a burning sting as Daryl forced the tip of his finger inside.

“Daryl, stop!” Rick hissed.

Daryl pulled off of Rick’s length and stilled immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked, voice rough from what he had been doing, confusion evident in the tilt of his head.

“You can’t go in dry”, Rick bit out through clenched teeth. “I need lube.”

There was a moment of absolute silence, then Daryl whispered: “Oh shit! Rick, I’m sorry man, I forgot you don’t have your own.” Withdrawing his finger excruciatingly carefully, he repeated: “‘M so sorry Rick, didn’t mean to hurt you.” He sat back on his haunches and peered up at Rick worriedly: “You okay?”

Rick nodded, his whole body relaxing now that the painful intrusion was gone. “Yeah. Stings a bit, but it’ll be fine in a minute”, he reassured his mate.

“Sorry”, Daryl repeated once again, before moving up and leaning in to nuzzle the underside of Rick’s jaw in apology. “You want to stop?”

“Hell no!” Rick shook his head, then cupped Daryl’s face with both hands to bring him in for a heated kiss, faintly tasting himself on his mate’s lips. To his relief, Daryl returned the kiss with interest, and Rick arched his hips up to grind his erection against Daryl’s stomach, showing him wordlessly that he was still very much up for the ride.

Daryl was gasping for air when Rick finally let him go. “Okay, so you got any lube?” he panted, sitting down on Rick’s thigh and looking at him questioningly. 

There was a hitch in Rick’s breath, and his voice sounded oddly strangled when he said: “Might not need it after all. I think you got enough for both of us.” With that he put his hands on Daryl’s waist and pulled until Daryl followed the hint and rose to his knees, allowing Rick to run his hands up the backs of Daryl’s thighs. “Fuck”, he growled breathlessly. “You’re covered in slick.” 

Rick’s fingers dug into Daryl’s waist as he ruthlessly fought his inner alpha down. He would not break his word, he would not force himself on his mate, and that was the end of it.

Oblivious to Rick’s struggle, Daryl craned his head and reached one hand back to check for himself. He could feel himself blushing when he realised Rick was right; his thighs were dripping wet with his own slick - he’d just been too busy enjoying himself to notice it.

“You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now”, Rick moaned under him and dropped one hand to Daryl’s ass.

Daryl’s hand clamped around his wrist before it could go any further.

“Your call”, Rick stated quietly, making no attempt to move, holding Daryl’s gaze steadily.

After a moment’s hesitation, Daryl released his iron grip on Rick’s wrist and nodded once.

Rick sat up and pulled Daryl in until their bodies were flush, and Rick was in the perfect position to return Daryl’s earlier favour, mouthing at his nipples. Only once Daryl began to relax did he move his hands, sliding one down to Daryl’s hip and cupping Daryl’s ass with the other.

“So fucking gorgeous”, he muttered against Daryl’s chest, teasing a nipple with his teeth. 

Daryl arched into the contact with a sigh, and Rick closed his mouth over the nipple, squeezing Daryl’s ass with his hand, telegraphing his intention before he slid his fingers further down to Daryl’s entrance. Daryl’s hole was wet and relaxed, and Rick carefully slipped a finger inside. 

Daryl’s mewl surprised them both. 

“I take it you like that”, Rick grinned into Daryl’s chest.

Humming in agreement, Daryl put his hands on Rick’s shoulders and pushed back onto his finger. “More”, he growled, and Rick dutifully added a second finger.

“Fuck”, Daryl breathed, fingers digging into Rick’s shoulders as he slowly rocked himself down onto Rick’s digits. “Oh fuck, that feels good.”

For a few moments, Rick just held him while he got his bearings; once Daryl started to set a pace, the alpha murmured: “Open me up, I’ll make sure your cock is lubed up?”

Daryl lifted his head to look at him dazedly. “Wh..? ... Yeah. Yeah, okay”, he slurred, licking his lips.

Ignoring Daryl’s low whine of protest, Rick withdrew his fingers and groped for the pillow to push it under his hips as he lay down again. Then he pulled the leg Daryl wasn’t straddling up and let it fall open, at the same time tugging Daryl closer.

That was all the invitation Daryl needed. He gathered some of the slick from his thigh and began spreading it around Rick’s entrance, again and again, until Rick’s hole was as wet as his. Then he reached back once more and sunk two fingers into himself, alongside Rick’s, making them both groan with desperate want at the feeling of their fingers sliding against each other in Daryl’s wet heat.

“Jesus, Daryl”, Rick gasped. “Now. I need you now.” He tilted his pelvis up on the pillow, pushing his ass up further, closer to Daryl, his body begging for his mate.

With a possessive growl, Daryl brought his dripping fingers to Rick’s entrance. He barely noticed Rick’s hand on his cock as he made quick work of opening the alpha up, deftly stretching Rick to accept first two and then three digits in quick succession, as impatient to fuck his mate as Rick was to be fucked.

“Now, Daryl”, Rick growled, and Daryl pulled his fingers out to line himself up instead. He brushed the head of his cock against Rick’s entrance, giving him a couple of seconds to get used to the feeling, before slowly pressing in. 

Rick let out a long, low moan and then panted through Daryl entering him hot, hard inch by hot, hard inch. The feeling of pressure in Rick’s ass was overwhelming, and for a moment he was sure he wouldn’t be able to take Daryl, but then his muscles opened up and Daryl slid the rest of the way in and bottomed out.

“Okay?” Daryl asked, breathing heavily.

“Hm”, Rick grunted, trying to get his own breath under control. “Move.”

Daryl started off slowly, long, even strokes that quickly sped up to hard and fast thrusts, egged on by Rick wrapping his legs around Daryl’s hips and his arms around the back of Daryl’s shoulders to muffle his grunts of pleasure in the crook of Daryl’s neck.

The smooth glide and drag of Daryl’s cock in and out of his ass made Rick’s blood burn, and his hips arched off the bed to meet Daryl’s thrusts almost of their own accord.

“Harder”, he urged his mate on. “Come on, Daryl, fuck me like you mean it”, and he surged up and sunk his teeth into Daryl’s shoulder. 

Daryl slammed into him with a vicious growl. “Always demanding, ain’tcha?” he hissed and proceeded to pound his mate hard enough for Rick to have to put a hand above his head to avoid getting nailed into the headboard. Rick’s other hand had disappeared between their sweating, heaving bodies, alternately gripping and releasing his swelling knot in time with Daryl’s thrusts.

“Oh fuck yeah”, Rick moaned. “Oh yeah. Fuck! Daryl… So close”, he whined, and then clamped his legs around Daryl’s legs like a vise while pushing his hips up and off the bed in an attempt to get even closer, more, more, chasing release as his body raced ever closer to the edge. 

Daryl’s body answered his with faster and faster thrusts, until Daryl’s rhythm finally started to stutter, until Rick could feel his mate starting to twitch inside him, and they both went over the edge together, painting each other inside and out as they came hard.

Rick relaxed his death grip on Daryl and his mate collapsed on top of him, panting heavily while their heart rates slowly returned to normal. 

“Thank you”, Daryl whispered breathlessly into Rick’s ear, once he was able to form words again. “Alpha.”

Rick swallowed. Hearing that word out of Daryl’s mouth, in that utterly wrecked voice, did things to him, and if he hadn’t been so completely fucked out he would have suggested round two now. As it was, he settled for wheezing: “Anytime.”

If Rick getting fucked six ways from Sunday was what it took to get Daryl to feel comfortable with him, the alpha would take the sore ass he was going to have for the next few days and call it a win.

They fell into silence after that, simply enjoying their closeness. 

“Fuck, Rick”, Daryl groaned eventually. “We’re gonna have to burn the place down to get rid of this mess.”

“Some nesting instinct you have”, Rick snorted and turned his head to plant a kiss on Daryl’s temple.

“Bite me”, muttered Daryl, no heat behind the words whatsoever as he rolled himself off of Rick to curl into his side instead.

“Fat chance”, Rick huffed into his hair. “That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”

**Author's Note:**

> With big thanks to [MermaidSheenaz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz/pseuds/MermaidSheenaz) for being an amazing beta who helped make this so much better with her great constructive feedback. Mwah, darling!


End file.
